“There’s one of the patrol boats,” said Mr. Young. “Probably it has directions for some of us.”
The little boat, which was one of seven patrol boats directing the traffic, steamed directly toward the ship immediately ahead of the Lycoming, turned when abreast of her, and shot close to her side. A traffic official shouted something through a megaphone and waved his hand toward the statue of Liberty. At once the big ship swung toward Bedloe’s Island, and in a few minutes Roy heard her chain rattle as she dropped her anchor. Meantime, the patrol craft had sped past the Lycoming, the man with the megaphone directing Mr. Young to proceed to his accustomed dock.
“I’m glad they aren’t going to hold us up,” said Mr. Young, as he rejoined Roy. “We might swing at anchor for a week if we ever got into that crowd.”
He waved his hand toward the western anchorage, where a great fleet of ships tugged at their anchor chains.
“Why, there are dozens and dozens of them,” exclaimed Roy. “They seem to be anchored in groups.”
“Yes. That is to make room for ships to pass. You see there is one big group between Robbins’ Reef light and the Jersey shore. That is an anchorage for general cargoes. Then you notice a great pier built out from the Jersey shore and the narrow channel leading to it. Just north of that channel a little way is the anchorage ground for ships loaded with explosives. It is just below Black Tom Island, where that awful explosion occurred during the war. Above that point the anchorage extends north of Ellis Island. Altogether that’s a space several miles long, and it’s just jammed with ships. Over on the Brooklyn side and even far up the Hudson the anchorages are crowded.”
“I’m glad I have seen this,” said Roy. “It is wonderful.”
“You may well be glad. We used to think New York harbor was a pretty busy place before the war, but it was dead compared with the present conditions. I don’t know what we’ll do if traffic continues to increase the way it has been increasing the last few months. The only thing that saves the harbor from utter confusion now is the traffic squad. Its power is absolute and we have to do exactly as the patrolmen say. So they keep excellent order and prevent all sorts of trouble. But I tell you they are strict. It doesn’t take much of an offense to bring a fine on a ship captain, and for a serious offense he may even lose his papers.”
Just then Captain Lansford came on the bridge with a despatch in his hand. “I will take charge, Mr. Young,” he said. Then, turning to Roy, he said brusquely, “Send this.”